Feeling Blue
by Captain coughdrop
Summary: Jaime Reyes has had a hard life. An abusive father, running away, being seen on the team as a weirdo kid that talks to himself... Will things ever pick up? Eventual Wonderbeetle. AU. OOC-ness. Get's better. Please read, I'm rubbish at summaries. Actually quite good.
1. Chapter 1: Jose

**Disclaimer: I own nada**

It was a Friday evening in El Paso, Mexico. Jaime was lounging on his comfy bed, trying to do summer reading, all whilst being deafened by girly giggling and singing, etcetera, from Milagro's room, the shouting from Louisa's room and the raucous, loud laughter from Raul and his friends. He sighed, glancing down at the book in his hands. Summer reading was so dull he was practically flat lining. Plus he had another monster headache on the way. It happened a lot, lately.

And, as was usual, Jaime was alone.

Well, not completely alone. He had that annoying chunk of rock stuck to his fricken' spine, of course, but even if it did speak to him a lot, it wasn't the best company.

**_I could say the same about you_**, sad the scarab into Jaime's mind, worsening his headache. But Jaime decided to ignore it.

Plus, his sister, Milagro, and her friends were playing in the room beside his. And Louisa (Jaime's step-sis) and her boyfriend, who having an argument, were on the other side. Raul (Jaime's step-bro) and some of his mates were in his room having a laugh with a few beers, directly opposite Jaime's room. All the better to push Jaime around every morning. And his mom was down stairs, talking to his step dad, Jose.

_Probably talking about my newfound schizo-ness_, thought Jaime miserably.

**_Scan's show they are indeed discussing your new habits_**, informed the scarab. This, again, did nil to help Jaime's worsening headache.

Of course, it was all the scarab's fault. His new habit of talking to 'himself', his parents discussing it, and the headaches. Jaime figured the headaches were from having to share head space with the annoying, homicidal mind and voice of the scarab.

**_That is exactly the reason_**, the scarab confirmed. **_But our amour is an asset!_**

"Shut up!" Said Jaime quietly, clutching his head as his brain exploding headache came in full force. He curled up as small as possible, bringing his knees up to his chest. His nails were digging into his scalp, drawing blood. It felt as if his brain was being fried. Resisting the urge to cry out, Jaime bit his lip hard. Too hard. It ruddy hurt. At any other time Jaime would have been a tad upset about this, but at that moment he was too busy dealing with his SIMHA (scarab-induced-monster-headache). It was a-g-o-n-y. 5 star pain. Jaime allowed a low groan to escape his lips, but it was drowned out by Milagro and co.

Behind his closed eyes, random images flashed in Jaime's mind, but they went so fast he didn't get a chance to really see them. But thankfully, the waves of pain had died down to the normal headache standard.

"Hey kid," said the cocky, arrogant voice of Jose from the door.

"_Hola_ Jose," answered Jaime shortly. He had nothing good to say about Jose.

"Let me tell ya somethin'," growled the huge burly man.

**_Threatening intent_**, said the scarab. But, unlike he would with others, it didn't form a plasma gun or something. It knew that Jaime would simply not allow it, despite what Jose did.

"Don't you think I know that?" Snapped Jaime, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing.

"You little-" Jose punched Jaime hard in the stomach. Jaime doubled up and dropped to the floor, arms around his stomach, just under his ribs. As Jaime struggled to remember how to breath, whilst wincing at his head that had banged off the floor. Which hurt more because he still had the after-shocks from the original SIMHA.

It was as if the scarab had decided to dump a load of pointless info in his brain.

**_That's exactly what I did_**, the scarab stated. But it wasn't pointless.

"Well, how about you-" Jaime was cut off by Jose, kicking him as hard as he could in the ribs. He had forgotten he was speaking out loud, that Jose couldn't hear the voice too. The man leant down and hauled Jaime up by the scruff of his neck and punched his face twice. Great. Jaime now had a black eye and a split lip. Fun stuff.

"Anything else? You _estupido niño_?" Jaime did the safest thing and shook his head no. But apparently he did something wrong, because Jose dropped him again and stamped hard on Jaime's right ankle, hoping to break it.

**_Report: internal bleeding, no broken bones_**, reported the scarab, and for once Jaime listened, as he curled up into the smallest shape possible on the floor by Jose's feet. **_A doctor is recommended._**

Jose glared at Jaime, before grunting.

"Your mother and I have decided to send you to get checked for schizophrenia, kid," said Jose, his voice softening, which meant that Milagro or Sofia, Jaime's mom, were out in the hall watching. "Now how about you get up off the floor, eh, _muchacho_?" Jose leant down and 'helped' Jaime up, before gasping.

_You gotta hand it to the guy_, thought Jaime bitterly, _he's a good actor_.

**_Indeed_**.

"What happened to your face, Jaime?" Asked Jose, tipping Jaime's face to see the bruises at every angle. There was the one on his left eye from just now, quickly swelling shut, and his lip was bleeding, but there was also a fainter one on his jaw, and another on his cheek bone. The ones on his jaw and cheek bone were from bullies. Milagro ran in to see what was wrong with Jaime, before gasping, putting her hand to her mouth, her eyes as big as saucers. Then Jaime's mom barged in, looking over Jose's shoulder and also gasped. There seemed to be a lot of that going around.

"_Hijo_? What happened?" She asked, examining Jaime's face with the air of the nurse she was. Then her face went stern. "Have you been getting into fights again?"

"_Si_, mom," said Jaime, dropping his gaze to the floor, shuffling his feet.

"You've got to stop this, Jaime!" Said Jose, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, what do have to say for yourself? Worrying your mother and I like this!"

It almost strangled him, but Jaime managed to mutter, "_lo siento_."

"Louder. Or don't you really mean it?" Asked Sofia, angry. "And look me in the eye." Jaime mentally screamed, but looked up and looked straight into her eyes.

"_Lo siento_, mom, Jose," Jaime said, in a louder voice.

"Good, don't do it again," Jose said, turning to leave, "and don't do it again." And then el diablo vacated the room.

"_Hijo_…" said Sofia putting her hand to Jaime's face, a sad look on her face. A disappointed look. "You are worth so much more than this."

And then she left, taking Milagro, leaving Jaime alone to his thoughts and pain.

**What do you think? Too dark? Sorry Jaime. Will be a Wonderbeetle fic, but at the moment it's just about Jaime.**

**Translations:**

**Hijo: son**

**Muchacho: boy**

**Lo siento: I'm sorry**

**Estupido niño: stupid boy**

**Si: yes (duh)**

**Hola: I'm sure you know what this means.**


	2. Chapter 2: The last straw

**Disclaimer: Nothing. I own nothing. If I did, Kid Flash and Artemis would have stayed, and Jaime and Wonder Girl would've been around from the first series.**

Jaime sloped miserably through the school gates, his ankle hurting, even though his mom put ice on it. He guessed that was an advantage to having a mom that new how to deal with injuries; he didn't have to put up with awkward questions from doctors. Except the time when he's had to go in for a broken wrist, and they'd seen all the bruises. That'd put Jaime on the 'alert' list in the doctor's mind, he was almost certain.

"Hey, look!" Crowed Benito San Rio, who stepped in front of Jaime, overshadowing the smaller boy. His thick friends, Pedro and Chucho. Jaime bit back a groan of annoyance. Why, why, why? Why was it that he got the abusive step-dad? Why was it that he was the one bullied? Why did his mom not see what was happening? And why did it have to be him that found the stupid scarab? Instead of, say, some complete stranger.

**_Trust me, you weren't my first choice either_**, said the scarab, annoyingly.

"Gee, thanks. Then why did you choose me?" Asked Jaime, successfully annoyed. He'd somehow forgotten about Benito and co., who were staring at him.

"Uh…¿Que?" Asked Pedro, unsurely. Jaime ignored him. Or just wasn't focused. It's anyone's guess.

"Are we missing something here?" Wondered Benito aloud.

**_I was forced to choose you because you were the only available human at the time!_** Scarab was also ignoring the bullies, which was unlike him, as he'd usually be giving Jaime about a million ways to kill them.

"Well, couldn't you have been patient?" Whined Jaime, missing the seriously freaked out looks he was receiving from people. "Couldn't you have waited for the right person?"

**_No!_** Said the scarab, **_that may've shut me down completely. As it is I'm fortunate you came along in time!_**

"Way to change your tune," growled Jaime.

"Dios mio!" Yelled Benito, giving Jaime a seriously worried look, breaking the scarab and his human host away from their bickering.

"He's definitely schizo!"

"Or just loco. Loco bicho raro!"

The boys ran off, leaving Jaime staring after them, hurt.

He sighed and turned, seeing Carlos and Louisa pointing and whispering about how much of a loco bicho raro he was. Their (numerous) friends sniggered, but Jaime was used to this. He shouldered his back pack and walked on. But then he saw Milagro, staring at him fearfully.

"Desaparecer! Loco bicho raro!" She yelped, taking hurried steps back. And then she added, in a whisper, "I hate you."

Milagro turned and ran, leaving Jaime to just stand there, shell shocked. He honestly couldn't believe his little sister had just said that to him. He wasn't surprised at Carlos or Louisa, no, but that didn't matter so much, they hadn't grown up together, weren't family. But Milagro? She and Jaime had always been close, much closer than other siblings. It had always been them and mom, up until two years ago when Jose came into the picture. And he never hurt Milagro, he treated her as any dad should. Likewise with Carlos and Louisa. And he was always nice enough to Jaime's mom. It was just Jaime he hated, Jaime he'd singled out to be his personal punching bag, Jaime's life he'd chosen to make miserable.

But anyway, Jaime slowly turned and ran away, ignoring the laughter and jeers from the other kids. He stole a skate board from the bike shed and went as fast as he could home, bumping into people and almost getting killed by rolling out in front of a moving vehicle twice.

When he got home, he crept around the back of the house and climbed up the trellis to his window. As always, it was open (it was very hot at times) so Jaime just opened it further and slipped silently inside.

He dumped his books quietly on his bed, smiling grimly. Carlos may be strong and fast and clever etcetera, etcetera, but Jaime could be quiet and secretive. Treading softly (Jose and Jaime's mom were downstairs), Jaime packed another change of clothes, his mobile, his switch blade (a gift from his late father), a tooth brush and tooth paste (he had to be careful creeping to the bathroom), before tip toeing downstairs. His mom was watching TV with Jose, so they were out of sight from the kitchen. As fast as he could, Jaime packed as much food as he could. Only stuff that would last; crisps, chocolate bars, two bottles of water, and a pack of biscuits, and with his experience of food thievery (he often skipped dinner since Jose came, and he had to eat something, the scarab nagged at him incessantly until he did), he managed to do it as silently as possible.

Jaime quickly wrote out a note to his mom, saying sorry, stole a picture of him, Milagro, and his mom before Jose had come. Then, with a flash of satisfaction, Jaime stole Jose's wallet, and ran through the front door, out into the big wide world, with no idea of where to go.

**Keep the reviews coming!**


	3. Chapter 3: On the run

Jaime ran as far away as possible-or rolled, he'd kept the skate board-as fast as possible, while phoning Ty.

"Hey, Jaime!"

"Hey man," said Jaime. "Just wanted to say, I'm leaving for Houston, as soon as possible. Just phoned to say adios, ese."

"WHAT?! You're leaving? No, c'mon Jaime," Jaime could hear him scrambling to his feet and opening a door. "Just-just wait for me to get there, ok? Promise me."

"I won't make any promises," Jaime answered before hanging up. He leant on the wall of the bus station, after buying a ticket, and waited for the bus. The people walking past gave him funny looks, which was to be expected since, 1) it was a school day, 2) he was covered in bruises and 3) he was without any adults. He put on a ferocious scowl and pulled up his hood, until finally, finally, the bus the Houston came.

Jaime didn't even hesitate as he climbed aboard, headed toward his new life.

Out of the window he could just see the vague shape of Ty appear, but he refused to look. He'd never look back now.

* * *

Jaime hadn't stuck around in Houston for too long. He discovered that if you kept moving, you could almost out run the pain and memories. Right now, he was in some big city. Big cities were good. You spend ages without being noticed, not being seen. Jaime was just another nobody in a city full of homeless people.

It had been three years since Jaime had left his mom, little sister, Jose, Carlos, and Sofia back in El Paso. And over that time, his heart had become colder and colder. Maybe it was the fact that nobody ever showed him any sympathy or love, or maybe it was from the number of times he'd had to steal to survive, or maybe it was the fact that he usually had only the slightly homicidal scarab for company.

Jaime guessed he was luckier than most. In a brief stay in a small town (Jaime had learnt to stay away from them; not enough places to hide, and news travels too fast), an elderly man had taught him the true art of being a master pick pocket. Jaime had mastered it in a single night, and was able to collect just enough change to survive. Not so rarely he shoplifted. He often was forced to break into houses for food. He was well acquainted to scavenging from dumpsters.

But, this city had lasted longer than most. Jaime had decided to stick this one out, live there, until he actually had to move away. Constantly travelling was just too stressful.

He'd decided this about six months ago. So, yeah, this place had lasted much, much longer than most.

This had meant, however, that Jaime had begun to pay frequent visits to the police station near where he lived. These visits always left him annoyed. He had zero respect for authority and didn't take well to being bossed around. He'd been like this for years now, ever since the day he'd run away, he'd had a very difficult time coping with the outside world and all its contents; including law and human interacting.

Jaime sighed, looking at the scratches on the wall of his alley opposite him. It was a tally chart of the number of times he'd been sent to the station. Because, as said before, authority and Jaime did not bode well.

The police, for a long while, didn't even know his name. Ever since he left, Jaime, when asked, went by 'Loco bicho raro' as a slightly ironic joke. Those who spoke Spanish were confused. Those who didn't speak Spanish were confused. It was win-win.

Later on however he grew out of downgrading himself and simply took to downgrading others. He'd perfected his 'go-away-before-I-gut-you' glare, and had been taught to fight by a kid he temporarily teamed up with some place just outside Texas.

Jaime's 'home' was a dark, dank, dirty, rubbish strewn alley. It was so piled high with rubbish that only he could get in, because he knew where to step when he climbed.

With so much time on his hands, Jaime had experimented a lot with the scarab. He'd discovered, that along with blue armor, he could make a staple gun, a sort of battering ran thing, a scanner, a plasma gun, and wings. And it really helped when needing to scare someone senseless.

Jaime also looked different. His cheeks were sunken in, and you could see every one of his ribs if he took off his shirt. His eyes, once warm, had turned harsh and cold, and they had massive bags underneath from lack of sleep. His facial expressions varied from blank to angry to cruelly amused. But always guarded, mistrusting. He found it difficult to socialize with people now, and preferred to be alone. Or alone as he could ever be with the scarab.

When testing out the suit lost its charm, he simply caused trouble. A while ago, he and another kid had started a string of small time crimes in their part of town. However, after a particularly spectacular explosion including a wheelie bin, spray cans, gasoline and matches, Jaime's partner quitted to go seek help. (Jaime guessed it hadn't been fun enough for him anymore. Really, some people are spoiled.)

But Jaime was stubborn and stuck it out and continued his crime spree solo, even though he got caught a lot. Mainly through laziness than lack of skill. That was why he became acquainted with the police Chief James who began to feel a connection with him whereas Officer Ramirez saw him as nothing more than another delinquent out making his job all the more difficult.

They got Jaime admitted into countless orphanages but he continually ran away and when he couldn't find an escape he turned to threatening and/or annoying others. The threats and the constant trouble got so bad that no one could keep their cool long enough to even be in the same room as him. So with little to no option left they allowed him to run the streets in hopes he could maybe have revelation of the error of his ways. It never happened.

Jaime stayed in the streets and the more time that went by the colder his heart and compassion became and the more animosity toward humanity in general grew within him. Able to scrap up change here and there thanks to his skills he was able to survive. But even that was becoming too little to truly provide him with what he truly needed.

Today was an average day for Jaime. He strolled down the main street, watching out for police officers (who'd taken to greeting him and having long and pointless conversations about Jaime's fictional family (they didn't know it was fictional, obviously)). When he'd quite rudely just turned on his heel and walked away from one officer, she'd given chase and when she'd eventually caught him, she'd explained that it was just because she hated to see such a nice kid out on the streets. Jaime had bluntly asked her which nice kid she was referring to, before running off. Jaime also watched out for the Zoo Rats.

They were a street gang that operated in these parts. They may have had a stupid name (Jaime often referred to them as the zoo-zoo hamsters), but these thugs were dangerous. They carried guns and knives, and always travelled in packs (they were pack-rats, ha ha), plus, no one, except occasionally police, messed with the Rats.

That is, except for Jaime.

From the very first day he'd arrived, he'd sworn NOT to make any friends. All friends he'd had before had left him, or he'd been forced to move on. It just wasn't worth it. When you were a street kid, nothing lasts forever. So, he'd got into a fight with Wig, the second in command of the Rats. He wasn't actually called Wig, Jaime didn't know-and didn't care-what his actual name was. He just had such strangely black shiny hair that it looked wig like.

But since then, Jaime had done all he could to irritate them, from trashing their hide outs, to telling on them to the police to stealing all their stuff. Very fun. Good times. But, on the downside, this meant Jaime was at constant risk when he went out in the open. He'd been beaten up before. If any street rat saw him, he would have to run. But Jaime was fast from so many people having been out to get him in the past. In El Paso, he'd been a mediocre kid-not the most intelligent, not the fastest, not the strongest-but now he was pretty damn fast. Plus he knew most short cuts and could climb pretty good. And, if all else failed, Jaime could just allow scarab to put on his armor while the Rats couldn't see, and scare them witless.

So, anywho, Jaime strolled down the streets, his hands darting out to steal stuff whenever the opportunity arose. He wore a green hoodie over a t-shirt, fittingly saying 'ask me about my ability to annoy complete strangers' and worn, tattered jeans and black sneakers. On his hands he wore fingerless black gloves.

As he turned a corner, Jaime quickly ducked behind a car, so the Rat's couldn't see him. There were five of them-baldy, short skirt, karate kid, neon and toplofty. Baldy was a short, stout guy with a shiny bald head. Surprisingly, he was just 12. Short skirt was a girl with rib length hair, crop tops and short skirts. She was…ooh, 13? Neon was a black girl who always wore incredibly, eye poppingly bright clothing. Toplofty was a big, strong boy who was thick. Even thicker than Carlos had been. He was, say, 15.

But it was karate kid Jaime was most worried about. As the name suggested, he knew karate, and the problem was that Jaime didn't. Sure, he could fight well enough against most people (the kid who'd taught him to fight had also taught him a few blocks and to punch pressure points), but 'most people' hadn't been taught karate like a religion from the word go.

But, as soon as he saw the tub of moldy fruit, Jaime simply couldn't help himself. Within a matter of second he was sprinting away after throwing the contents of the tub on the Rats.

**_Running away displays weakness!_** Hissed the scarab in his mind.

"Por favor, I'm trying not to die here!"

Jaime pelted through a market, knocking down boxes to make it harder for them to follow him. He climbed a trellis, and slipped down the other side, before running through a doorway and closing the door behind him, to see he was in a small walled off garden. Three sides were walled off, and the other side was a metal fence.

He heard yelling as he climbed the fence and kept running. He needed somewhere safe to go, so he blatantly, without trying to hide it, nicked a police officer's wallet. He did run, of course, to make it look convincing, but he didn't really try, wanting to be caught.

So, Jaime was taken to the station, where he received another lecture from Chief James about not stealing, yadda yadda.

"So, Jaime," said James, watching the boy in front of him with something in his eyes resembling sympathy. "Or would you prefer to be called loco bicho raro?"

"Oh yes," said Jaime sarcastically. "Please, call me a crazy weirdo."

Chief James ignored him. "You're going to have to spend a few nights here. Tomorrow you're going to see a psychiatrist. And then some people may want to talk to you, ok?"

"Yeah, whatever," Jaime rolled his eyes.

Chief James led Jaime to his cell, gave him a smile and walked off.

"What, no orange jump suit?" Jaime yelled after him, before falling back onto the bed.

**_We are trapped. We should use the plasma gun and-_**

"No," said Jaime firmly. "We'll stay as long as they want. The rat's we saw earlier would only kill me if they saw me again anyway."

**_Hiding?_** Yelled the scarab, angry.

"Si, live with it," said Jaime tiredly. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in ages. But even though he tried, Jaime just couldn't sleep. And his thoughts took an unpleasant turn.

Jaime wondered if his family had looked for him. He kinda doubted it. Jose had hated his guts; to Carlos he was just a pain in the neck; Jaime wasn't actually sure Louisa knew he existed; Milagro hated him; and his mom was disappointed in him. No, they wouldn't be missing him too bad, thought Jamie tiredly to himself.

**_How depressing_**, said the scarab sarcastically, and Jaime rolled his eyes, irritated.

"Dios mio, you've learnt sarcasm?" He groaned. "What are you going to do next, start singing?"

The police officer on patrol stopped to stare at Jaime, but he just ignored him.

**_Irrelevant_**, snapped the scarab, and Jaime smiled triumphantly. He'd won.

**_You have not won._**

"Have to."

**_Have not._**

"Have to!"

**_Have not!_**

"HAVE TO!"

**_HAVE NOT!_**

Jaime whisper shouted the last bit, before rolling on his side huffily and going to sleep. This bed was super comfy compared to what he usually slept on; a flattened cardboard box with a thin blanket to go over Jaime. Plus, here he didn't have to worry about whether or whether not it was going to rain. Jaime figured he hadn't had a good night's sleep since he'd left. Some nights he didn't sleep at all, but most nights he only slept for about five hours, give or take.

Jaime was awoken in the morning by Chief James with his breakfast. Jaime wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he ate it as fast as possible. He never got a good meal out on the streets, and scavenging from dumpsters could not be good for him.

**_Good sources of nutrients_**, the scarab stated. **_A healthy balanced meal._**

Chief James watched him, amused.

"Hungry?"

"No duh," answered Jaime, not looking up. So what if he was being highly ungrateful? He didn't care. It wasn't like they were going to take it off him. Jaime finished his breakfast in record time. A big bowl of cereal, a bottle of water, two crumpet things.

"Thought so," said Chief James, still smiling. "I got you an extra big breakfast for that very reason. You look as if you need a good square meal. Quite a few actually."

**_He's right._**

"I know that!" Snapped Jaime, annoyed at the scarab.

"Ok, kid. By the way, Mrs. Black will be coming to see you soon," the Chief said. Jaime gave him a blank look. "The psychiatrist, remember?"

Jaime groaned aloud. So now they thought he really was schizophrenic. And they'd sent a psychiatrist to concrete their theory. What fun.

Chief James led Jaime to a room that had two chairs and a table between them. Unlike the rest of the station, this place was actually quite nice. It had cheerful blue walls, and the cabinet had loads of pictures stuck to it. On another cabinet were boxes of coloring pencils and lego and toys, etc. Jaime banged his head against the table. No, no, no! Where had his life come to? Sitting in a bright room that hurt his eyes to see a fricken' psychiatrist.

"Ah, Mr. Reyes?" Asked a woman, walking into the room. Jaime turned and sighed.

"Uh huh," he answered boredly. The woman had long blonde hair and pale skin and blue eyes. She wore a denim jacket, a black vest top, and tight jeans, and black pumps.

**_Female, in her thirties_**, said the scarab. **_Most probably the psychiatrist._**

Jaime rolled his eyes.

"Obviously," he muttered quietly. The psychiatrist raised her eyebrows at him before giving him a warm smile. Jaime did not return it, instead choosing a cold glare.

"So," said Mrs. Black, reading her notes as she sat down. "So…"

"So what?" Asked Jaime, leaning back on his chair. Mrs. Black chuckled softly, which annoyed Jaime even more.

"Jaime Reyes, been in San Francisco for six months. Homeless. Has been known to steal, pick fights, cheek officers. Mental illness, unclear," Mrs. Black went on like this, listing off Jaime's bad points. No good points. Speaking of which, what were his good points?

**_You have me_**, said the scarab, much to Jaime's surprise, **_and you can fight. You're small and scrawny and skinny, but you're fast and smart._**

Jaime blinked. It was one of those rare occasions when the scarab was supportive and faintly kind to him.

"Sooo, Mr. Reyes," started Mrs. Black, making Jaime's fists clench in annoyance.

"Don't call me that," he snapped. He hated going by his family's name.

"Ok, Jaime," said Mrs. Black, pronouncing it wrong. Like 'jay-me', instead of 'hi-may'. Jaime scowled at her. Was she deliberately irritating him?

"No, repeat after me," he growled. "Hi-may. Not 'jay-me'. ¿Entienden?"

"Of course, sorry," apologized Mrs. Black. "My name's Canary."

**Been a while, hasn't it? Yeah, sorry about that. Been at school. And busy. Plus I forgot. I'm not only a clutz, but forgetful.**

**Sooooo, yeah.**

**Translations (as always, from my iPod translate app)**

**Entienden: do you understand**

**Dios mio: my god**

**Por favor: please**

**Hola: hello**

**Loco bicho raro: Crazy weirdo**


	4. Chapter 4: The psychiatrist and another

**Soooooo sorry I've been away for so long. Holiday. Plus I kinda work on several different stories ar once and only update when inspiration hits. And apparently inspiration has been absent. But it's come back after reading my reviews! So nice! So, here we go. Jaime won't go to the team yet...Just be patient.**

**With love to my followers, Captain Coughdrop!**

Jaime stared at her. Then he sniggered. Canary shrugged. Truthfully, she'd been worried he'd make the connection, 'Canary Black' as a play on 'Black Canary' wasn't all that subtle to be honest.

"But, Jaime, we're not here to talk about me," she said, smiling kindly. "We're here to talk about you. Like, why are you homeless?"

"Guess life dealt me the losing cards," Jaime shrugged.

"That's not a proper answer," argued Canary. Jaime glared at her.

"Why do you care?" He snapped. "It isn't any of your business!"

"Please, Jaime," Canary pleaded. "I'm just trying to help you."

"Well I don't want-or need-your help!"

"Jaime, please…" But Jaime ignored her. Instead he sat on his chair glaring at nothing in particular as Canary attempted to get him to talk by asking him questions, trying to play a game, trying to get him to draw, etcetera. Jaime didn't listen, instead deciding to strike up a conversation with the scarab. He honestly didn't care how crazy he seemed. It was not a concern.

Eventually, Canary gave up and left, and Officer Ramirez grabbed Jaime's shoulder none too gently and led him (dragged him) back to collect his stuff and leave. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaime saw Chief James and Canary having what looked like a very depressing little natter.

Tapping into a self-taught skill, Jaime began reading their lips.

_Jaime just wouldn't let me in_, Canary was saying, bowing her head. Chief James sighed.

_I think he's depressed_, he said. _Did he talk to himself with you?_

_Yes, but it…_ Canary paused, seeing Jaime watching them as Ramirez went to do something and waved cheerfully. _It seemed as if he was getting answers. I think he may have a mental illness._

_Do you think he'll need treatment?_ Jaime shivered. No thank you.

_I don't know… There were none of the other symptoms related to schizophrenia, just hearing voices._

_How many do you think?_

_Hard to say. But I want to speak to him alone in his cell, please. He'll need a meal. And a medical checkup, I can do that. I'll probably give him his shots. He's vulnerable to all kinds of diseases out there alone._

_Sure._

Jaime winced. The last time he'd had an injection was for his wrist. And it damn hurt. Whoever said 'it doesn't hurt, it's just a pinch' should be smacked senseless. Jaime would take a pinch over an injection any day. And a checkup? There was nothing wrong with him. Well, other than the psycho scarab on his back. A meal, well, that he could get along with.

"Hey, Jaime," said Chief out loud, walking toward him. "It's your favorite time of the day!"

"Home time?" Asked Jaime.

"No, lunch time!" Jaime just scowled.

After lunch, which Jaime also finished in record time, Canary left to get her syringes. Jaime was nervous. It wasn't that he was squeamish, but if humans were meant to have needles stuck in them, surely they'd have been created with needles in them. And besides, it was a kind of 'self-induced-but-enemy-inflicted-pain'. Jaime's most common type of pain.

He sighed, scowling at the floor as Canary turned. But he did glance up when he heard the footsteps of another following her. They were too light to be Ramirez or James, so it must be someone he hadn't met yet.

**_The more the merrier, as you humans say, _**put in the scarab.**_ Though you could still blast them-_**

"No!" Muttered Jaime.

"No what?" Asked the new officer, who, now Jaime saw her, wasn't an officer. He shook his head, like 'doesn't matter'.

The new person was tall with caucasian skin and red hair, cut quite short. She had brown eyes and freckles. She wore a simple orange cardigan over a white top, with jeans. Jaime sighed. Another weirdo, come to make his life that bit more miserable. Yay.

"Hello," said the woman. "My name is Megan."

**Yeah, I know. Similar ending to last chapter. But don't kill me! I'll update immediatly!**

**Wow... No Spanish in this one. New record. **

**Auf Weidersein (is that how you spell it? Damn, no iPod translate handy...)**


	5. Chapter 5: Gotham

**AHOJ, READERS!**

**That's hell in Czech! I'm feeling hyper! Hence why everything has an exclamation mark!**

**Ok. Calmed down now.**

**Right, sorry for not updating, I meant to straight after the last chapter but my internet went funny. Then I got writers block, and then for mybirthday I was given a puppy-Boots-who IS PEEING ON MY FLOOR RIGHT NOW-**

**Phew. Cleaned up. And then, of course, Christmas, so updating has been put off. Sorry. Lo siento.**

**So, I think I've gone on for enough time now, so read on.**

**No wait! The disclaimer. *sigh***

**Young Justice is just as much in my ownership as the planet mars. As in, not in my ownership.**

**Now go on. Read. Or I will track you down and kill you! BWA HA HA HA HA!**

Jaime ran and ran and ran. And then, because he was just crazy about consistency, ran some more.

_It's funny_, he thought as the hounds of hell chased him, _how running for your life puts everything else out of your mind_. He could hear the baying drawing closer, as he ran along the roof tops of Gotham, leaping from one roof to another, keeping to the shadows. So, ok, not at all funny.

Actually, it's probably better to explain why he was in this situation in the first place.

After his medical check with Canary and Megan, he'd been released and had gotten beaten up bad by the Zoo Rats. Real bad. Even shot at him as he'd ran away. That was what convinced Jaime to move on. So, he'd stowed away on a train headed to Gotham, and here he was.

But he'd met even more dangers in Gotham.

Well, he supposed, it wasn't so bad at first. He'd been setting up camp when a man came to him. Complete stranger, Jaime had never seen him in his life. The man-we'll call him Byron, it's his name-had offered to train Jaime up, feed him, in return for Jaime working for him.

Jaime had agreed. He'd soon discovered Byron was working for a much bigger cause than street theft.

That was what it was at first. Byron had taught Jaime to hit these points on people that temporarily paralyzed them. His pick pocketing skills had been improved so Jaime was now an expert. He'd been taught how to sneak into buildings, to do acrobatics, steal things, merge into shadows, stay unseen. This all worked for Jaime. It was in his nature to be the shadow, to watch and then only fight if necessary.

Byron gave him assignments, Jaime going under the code name 'Fingersmith'. It had been in a story Jaime's mother had read to him once, by a guy named Roald Dahl? Jaime didn't exactly remember. But it had been about an expert thief, who called himself a Fingersmith. So Jaime had adopted the name.

At first these assignments were small, but they built up and up so that now Jaime was stealing large amounts of money and other things from big companies and labs. Jaime learnt that he stole the money for a drug ring. But, even though it sounded bad, he really didn't care. If there had been something he could've done, he would've done it. But there wasn't anything he could do. Besides, by now he was trapped. Jaime had pulled enough stunts that he could go to jail for a lengthy sentence now, and if he quit the whole of the drug ring would be on his tail. And anyway, he loved the thrill of it, the kicks he got when he stole things, when he was almost (but never) caught.

But then it had gone wrong. On a mission to infiltrate Wane Labs so that he could steal some kit to give to Byron who'd sell it for cash, which would be squandered on drugs. Idiot. But Jaime hadn't been told the true importance of whatever he was stealing (he always found it best not to ask too many questions, just to carry out Byron's orders) and had been shocked and annoyed to find three super heroes guarding the vault he had to get into.

One was a weird fish guy that Jaime immediately took a strong dislike too when he heard him talk over the communicator. The other looked, weirdly, like a green Megan, the not-officer he'd met back at the police station, months ago. And, stranger still, it seemed as if Canary had a twin sister who was a super hero.

Jaime shrugged. Sticking to the shadows, getting occasional unhelpful advice from the scarab, he tried to sneak past.

But Green Megan was apparently telepathic. She'd yelled at the guy named 'La'agaan' (stupid name, Jaime thought) and the other 'Black Canary', to catch him.

It didn't take a genius to figure out this was the Canary that had played psychiatrist that time. Especially when La'agaan yelled 'isn't that the kid you talked to?'

Jaime shook his head as he sprinted out of the facility. His psychiatrist had been a super hero. Weird.

"Hey, stop!" Yelled a watchman, and in two minutes Jaime was running from the police, super heroes, and watchmen with big vicious dogs that would like to turn Jaime into the world's largest dog biscuit.

It looked like Jaime's life had taken on a whole new flavor of crazy.

So here we are; Jaime getting chased by the dogs of evil, the watchmen of death, the police of doom and some heroes of hell.

How had his life ended up like this?

Jaime swore as a particularly quick doggy latched itself onto his arm, it's teeth digging into his flesh. Jaime yelped and managed to kick the stupid mutt off, cursing fluently under his breath as he ran. His arm hurt like hell, and it was gushing out blood. Finally, Jaime lost them, or at least, they lost him. He was pretty good at not being found.

He ran toward Byron's base, and, after checking no one was behind him, slipped through a window and up the stairs. Panting, Jaime knocked on Byron's door.

"Come in!" Byron called. Jaime took a deep breath. Byron would not take kindly to failure, even if it was Jaime's first unsuccessful mission. He walked in all the same. "Well? Where is it?"

"Sir, three heroes were waiting for me at the lab, and one was telepathic," Byron's eyes were cold. "They sensed I was there and…And I had to bail. I failed, sir."

Jaime received a sharp smack round the face, and a punch in the stomach. Yeah, Byron was just another Jose. But the difference was that if Byron decided Jaime wasn't useful, Jaime would be killed. There was no room for failure. And in this life, no one would be there to help him.

"You're lucky." Kick. "That I." Smack. "Have a." Punch. "Big job." Smack. "For you." Kick.

Jaime sagged visibly.

"When sir?" He asked tiredly.

**Good? Bad? Somewhere in the middle? You don't know? Tell me in reviews! Thanks. Now for the translations-**

**Oh.**

**My.**

_**God.**_

**NO SPANISH IN TWO CHAPTERS! JESUS CHRIST WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME! MY WRITING HAS GONE FROM MOSTLY ENGLISH TO ENTIRELY ENGLISH! AAARGH!**

**So to make up for my lack of Espanol, I am going to write the next opening drivle in Japanese!**

**YAY!**

**Right. Must dash. I need some food.**

**ZAIJIAN, MEIN AMIGOS!**

**...I feel better now...**


	6. Chapter 6: That Goddam Byron

**KON'NICHIWA!**

**Dono yo ni anata-tachiwa nanidesu ka? Nenrei ni koshin sa renai tame ni hontoni gomen'nasai. Kore wa nihongodeari, shansu wa anata no dore mo kore o rikai shimasen nanode, watashi wa kore ga mijikai okou.**

***Menseki jiko jikan***

**Watashi wa, kyaputen coughdrop wa, wakai seigi o shoyu shite inai.**

**SUTORI TO-JO!**

Jaime decided he really truly hated Byron.

Because really, who in their right mind sends a teenager to infiltrate a crime lords hang out in order to steal-wait for it-a kid. Yes. A _kid_. According to what little info Byron was willing to share, this kid, Marie Ann Rosette, was six years old and this crime lord's granddaughter. She apparently lived with her parents-whom Jaime had taken out the day before-and would be now staying with her grandfather. So Jaime was sent in with nothing more than a photo and a death threat.

And honestly, what kind of sick mind just sees a little girl as an object to bargain with anyway?

It was no trouble sneaking past the guards and climbing through a window to get to the girl. That was cake. But now Jaime was faced with a dilemma-how to get her out? What if she screamed? Jaime considered his chances of taking her without getting caught? Or shot? Or caught _and_ shot?

Those guard's AK-47's did look fierce…

**_We could take them_**, Growled an annoyed scarab. **_Stop underestimating our armor!_**

"Callate, insecto," muttered Jaime, before putting a hand over the girls mouth and waking her with a shake. Her big green eyes snapped open.

"Oooo aahooo?" She asked, muffled by Jaime's hand. She didn't seem scared. Just curious.

**_You'll never get any useful intel out of her if you keep your hand there._**

Jaime took his hand away. "_Que_? What?"

"Who are you?" The little girl asked, hopping out of bed in Winnie the poo pyjamas. She looked expectantly up at him.

"Fingersmith."

"Oh. That's cool. If I were a bad guy I'd call myself the Silver Star," she told him. He blinked. "But I don't want to be a bad guy, I want to be a super hero, just like Wonder Girl!"

"Wonder Girl?" Jaime asked, confused. His knowledge on super heroes was limited.

"I call her Wonder," said Marie Ann. Jaime frowned. Did this hero exist or was she just a figment of the kid's imagination?

**_She's real_**, scarab informed him. **_Wonder Woman's sidekick. Joined the league-_**

"Ok, ok," muttered Jaime. "I get it."

"Who are you talking to?" Marie Ann asked.

"Myself," Jaime answered shortly. "C'mon, we're leaving."

"Ok, but can I get dressed first?" She asked, as if Jaime had just said 'hey, you wanna get an ice cream?'

"Uh, sure," Jaime said unsurely. His only experience of little kid care was Milagro, and seeing as he'd never tried to kidnap her, he wasn't entirely sure what to do in this situation. "I'll wait outside, shall I?"

**_Why are you asking her? Who's the kidnapper here anyway? _**The scarab snarked.

Jaime ignored it.

"Sure!" Piped Marie, and Jaime left and leant against the outside door, watching out for cameras. None. Not one. Was this crime lord really that stupid?

"Ready!" Whispered Marie, creeping out of the room and looking incredibly excited. "Let's go get Wonder Girl!"

_Wait, what?_

"What do you mean?" Jaime stared at Marie, who looked back up at him. She'd tied her orangy brown curls back and changed into jeans, trainers, a Disney princesses t-shirt, and a pink fleece. Over her shoulder was a back pack, as if she'd just been_ waiting_ to be kidnapped.

"We need to get Wonder Girl!" Marie insisted, tugging his sleeve and giving him puppy dog eyes. "Please, Fingersmith!" When Jaime shook his head and pulled away, she began to cry. "P-please, sh-she's my b-bestest friend!"

**_She'll wake someone soon_**, warned the scarab. Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose. If he got through this still somewhat sane, he would…Well he'd try to do a day without telling the scarab he hated him.

"Fine!" He hissed, turning to face a still sobbing Marie. "Where is she?"

"This way!" Said Marie, grabbing Jaime's sleeve and dragging him down the hall.

**Right, how was that?**

**Yeah, I know, I know; no updates since... Well, quite a while ago. I know I say this everytime, but I swear I don't mean to forget. Unfortunately, this will not be the last time this will happen.**

** I would go on with my excuses, but quite frankly I can't be bothered and I've also got a brand new fic to upload on x-men evolution (first few chapters pre typed so role up guys, role up).**

**I'm not sure if the disclaimer counts in Japanese, so I'll do it again. I don't own YJ.**

**Alright.**

**Translations.**

**_Callate, insecto_**** means shut up, insect**

**_Que,_**** means what?**

**Well, bye.**


	7. Chapter 7: Meeting Graceful

**Ah...Hi guys...**

**I know what your thinking: I vote we kill her.**

**But wait! If you kill me, I'll never be able to finish my wonderful little creation. Please bear in mind this is my first fanfic (on this site-I've written them, or thought them up since I first watched Lady and the Tramp, but that's not the point) and also my first story to get this far without me getting bored and ignoring it. All for you, readers. Thanks for the reviews; I do try to answer them, but my mum's convinced I'll end up like one of those people you see on the news, who went to meet someone they met on the net and got raped and murdered. The fact that I can't drive and live in the middle of nowhere doesn't stop the woman. Hell, I haven't even got facebook. I can't even walk up a few fields with my dog on my own. It's ridiculous. But anyhow. Enough ranting about my mum. On with the story.**

* * *

Wondergirl, if she existed, which Jaime (despite the scarab's assurances) wasn't convinced of, was in the basement.

Just typical. A dark, dingy basement, complete with spider webs and rats and cockroaches. Mmm, nice. Even Jaime's alley had been more welcoming than this, and that had been chock full of trash. Not quite so depressing; this place made Jaime want to leave, immediately, Wondergirl or no.

"Here!" Whisper-shouter Marie. And then to the barred cell in front of them. "Hey, Wondergirl!"

"Marie! Why are you-" A girl appeared at the cell door. "Who in the name of GOD is that?"

Jaime blinked. The girl who'd appeared was-well, she was… Jaime would never, never, not in a million years EVER admit it but she was really pretty (who tells someone they hardly know they're pretty? It just seems stalker-ish and weird). The girl, Wondergirl, had long, golden blonde hair, big blue eyes and fair skin. She wore a tight red t-shirt and tight black trousers. Even the contemptuous look on her face failed to ruin her good looks.

**_What is wrong with you?_** Hissed the scarab in wonder. **_Have you got what you humans call 'a_** **crush****_'?!_**

"No!" Hissed Jaime. He'd never had a crush since he'd run away. The only crush he'd ever had was on a girl called Chrystal in his school. But that's another story for another day.

"No what?" Wondergirl asked.

"No shit, that's what," Jaime said, saying the first thing that came to mind. It didn't make a lot of sense, but hey ho…

"You're weird, you know that?"

"_Do you want to get out or not_?"

In the end, after much irritable bickering, Jaime did let Wondergirl out, and had the sense to jump back out of the way as she flew at him.

"Nice," snickered Jaime. "Very smooth."

Wondergirl had forgotten that she was wearing a collar that took away her powers, so when she flew she sorta burst out of the door, leapt into the air, still handcuffed, and fell flat on her face. In other words, an epic fail. And very amusing.

For Jaime, anyhow. Marie and Wondergirl seemed to find it less than funny. If she hadn't had the handcuffs and collar, Jaime was 100% certain she'd kick his ass. Or try.

"If you're quite done," growled Wondergirl icily, "can you perhaps show us _the way out_?"

"Sure, Graceful."

"_What did you call me?_"

Even with the collar and handcuffs and bruised face Wondergirl looked, at that moment, very pissed and very scary. Jaime held up his hands.

"Nothing, nothing, sorry, jeez..."

**_Wimp._**

_Callate. Not now, ok?_

**_Submitting to a female. She cannot use her powers and her hands are tied. Males of your species should-_**

Jaime tuned him out and began walking.

"You two coming, or what?"

**Yeah, very short, but I just wanted to get a feel for how Wondergirl and Blue Beetle get along right now. Or don't get along, whatever. I could have made them all romantic at first sight, but that's too easy and too boring (Gaara quote there), s this was born. I've also got terrible writers block with this at the moment. I know where it ends and that, but I don't exactly know how to get from this point to that end in an interesting and sensible way.**

**Oh, and I don't own YJ.**

**Captain OUT!**


End file.
